


did you see the news last night

by varulve



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:43:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8658430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varulve/pseuds/varulve
Summary: (a little thing because of the tags on this post from mindykahling over on tumblr)





	1. Chapter 1

“Mike, is it true about you and Ginny?”

“Mike! Reports have been flooding in that you and Ginny were caught-”

“Mike-”

For days on end it had been nothing but microphones shoved in his face, hushed meetings in emptied storage rooms, and awkward silences broken by mumbled pleasantries and averted eyes.

He was fucking fed up with it. If he had known– well… no. Of course he knew this would blow up in his face, even if it hadn’t happened the way it had this was inevitability. To each and every reporter, analyst, and idiot who asked him he gave the same answer.

“It’s all a load of crock, I thought you guys were covering sports not bullshit meant for tabloids?” 

There were usually a couple of laughs meant to appease him before someone tried to ask again, which is when he’d become a lot less friendly and inviting. A tight, thin-lipped smile and wave was all they would get before he’d walk off and try to find any place where he could catch a moment of quiet.

It had been worse; of course it had been, for Ginny. If there was any regret he had about what had happened, what they did- what they were doing it was that. People were popping up asking her on the street if she was working her way through the roster or if she given the old man an old fashioned pity fuck since he was on his way out.

It made his skin crawl how people felt like they had any right to know what Ginny did on her own time. Or whom Ginny did, as the case seemed to be. He was used to it, to a degree. There had been people who had gotten way too on his case about his marriage and its collapse. It was draining, but he always guessed it was just the price of being a ball player.

Didn’t make it suck any less, but it made it tolerable. Maybe it was because he was so close to the end of his career but it just didn’t seem worth it anymore. Maybe he should have just had a normal life where he could date whoever the fuck he wanted and not have to field calls from his agent, questions from the GM, or see terrible cellphone pictures of him sucking face with his rookie teammate everywhere he looked.

But then, if he had had a normal life, he wouldn’t have met Ginny. An annoying bubble of feelings rose in his chest that he quickly squashed them. They had a game tomorrow; he was just here to work out and run through things with Ginny, and then later.... 

He wasn’t sure he was read to think about later. Later was the announcement, the big “old man Mike is finally retiring while he can still walk” presser his agent had thrown together. Part of him hoped it would push the whole “did you really make out with the first female major leaguer” shit storm aside, if even for a little bit. Maybe it’d give Ginny a break from the question they were genuinely not ready to answer. It was still new, and a little weird, even if it felt incredibly right.  
She was, to be corny and incredibly predictable, pretty damn perfect. He sighed, shaking her from his head for a moment as he scrolled through the various batters they’d probably be facing tomorrow; there were a couple of big bats in the line up. 

The hand on his shoulder drew him from his thoughts; he almost jumped when he realized it was Ginny. “Jesus Baker almost gave me a heart attack,” he grumbled sitting up a little straighter in his chair as Ginny, smirking, plopped down on the chair next to his.

“I forgot you have a weak heart to go along with those bad knees of yours, old man,” she teased casting a look around the mostly empty clubhouse before reaching a hand over to playfully slap at his thigh with the back of her hand. It was something she wouldn’t have thought twice about, Mike thought with a little twinge of sadness, before they kissed. Now every word, every action, every breath had to be calculated so nothing could be misconstrued.

Or maybe it was just construed? Because they had kissed, and-

-And well nothing, they had work to do. Work and whatever else there was between them was separate. Not just for her sake but for theirs and the teams. God was it hard though, looking at her as she scooted her chair closer to read over his shoulder, commenting on a few of the sluggers with a couple of thoughts she had had. He just wanted to pull her onto his lap and do this curled up close. Her warmth soothing the ache that just never seemed to leave his legs these days.

“Mike?” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts and he blinked at her stupidly for a minute. “I’m thinking my cutter would work best here, it’s felt really good lately and I think that and my screwgie could really catch them off-guard,” she said, slowly, as if this was not the first time it was coming out of her mouth.

“Yeah, sure, sounds good but I think if you come at ‘em first pitch fastball they won’t be expecting that so we catch ‘em watching. Follow it up with your screwball, I frame it perfectly there’s your strike two, finish them off with this cutter you’re so bananas about boom-bam-pow just like that,” he leaned back in his chair with a little sigh, adjusting himself just a little to achieve maximum comfort.

Ginny mimicked his movements, leaning back in her chair and letting out a long breath through her nose. Mike glanced over at her to see that her eyes were locked intently on the ceiling. “What?” he asked softly. Something was up, he could read it on the way she wasn’t cracking a thousand jokes, in the way she was quiet and still. It was different from the intensity before games, something was bugging her. 

“You’re making your announcement today, right?” she still didn’t look over at him. Mike looked up at the ceiling, trying to find what was so interesting up there. Looked like the same old ceiling to him, maybe there was a fresh coat of paint? Maybe she just didn’t want to face that her safety net was officially going to be leaving. 

“Yup,” he said firmly. “The big ‘this season is my last’ talk is today at three, super exciting stuff. I bet you,” he paused, letting his head loll to the side to look at her. “I bet you,” he repeated squinting his eyes at her. “That I’ll get more questions about whether or not I’m hooking up with you than what I’ll do after I retire,” that did it. With a snort of laughter Ginny finally looked over at him. Her expression was guarded, but she rolled her eyes at him. “What? Want to make this an actual wager or something, rookie?” 

Ginny grinned at him, her dimples in full glorious display. “What kind of wager?” She looked over her shoulder before leaning closer. “Unless you forgot we’re on total lockdown so it’s not like you could offer me drinks or dinner or-” he had stood up causing her to stop midsentence, eyebrows raised at him, incredulous and impudent and wonderful and

God he had to stop gushing. “I get it, you’re chicken, you just needed to say you didn’t want the wager, it’s fine,” he sniffed, shrugging. “Look I need to go loosen up so if you’re not up for the bet then go get warmed up and we can start tossing when you’re ready,” 

He was almost to the trainer’s room when he heard the patter of feet behind me, “when I win I want a home cooked meal Mike Lawson meal.” She said matter-of-factly, grinning over at him. He rolled his eyes at her, stopping before the door to fold his arms over his chest. 

“If I win?” he asked, cautiously. The mischievous flicker behind her eyes and the way she bounced her eyebrows at him. “Do I even want to know what you have in mind or can I just say something stupid like… a back rub or something,” he mumbled, casting a look towards the lockers to make sure no one had trailed in near them.

“Back rub it is,” she said with no further comment on whatever had crossed her mind. “See you on the field, old man,” she gave him one last grin before turning to get warmed up.

 

\---------

He flattened a hand over his shirt, making sure it was smooth and let out a breath he didn’t realize was being held. It was finally happening. He wanted nothing more than to vomit, runaway, or just postpone this whole fucking thing but it was too late for that. He shut his eyes, trying to let the weight of everything fall off of him. The work out with Ginny had helped, even though his knees felt a hell of a lot worse than they had this morning it had gotten everything else out of his mind. 

The world went quiet when she threw to him. Everything else ceased to be except for that moment; it was unlike anything he’d ever been a part of.

He’d showered and dressed into the suitable, respectable, clothing that he and his agent had agreed on and now he was just waiting to walk out to the pressroom. Where, hopefully, he wouldn’t be bombarded with questions about Ginny, an unlikely outcome but he could hope.

He looked at his phone one last time before shoving it into his pocket and making his way out to the flashing cameras and murmuring voices. They’d really packed in here for this huh? He smiled amicably as he settled into the chair, carefully adjusting the microphone in front of him before going into the speech that had been carefully crafted by a team of experts. 

He was retiring, it was not because of injury or insult, it was just time. He had other things in his life that he wanted to achieve and explore before it was too late and something did go wrong. This upcoming season would be his last, and he was going to treasure every moment. He was a Padre through and through and would be until game 162, but hopefully this would be the year – as he believed and so did the rest of the team – they could win it all.

With a quiet thanks to the management, his teammates, and of course the fans it was opened up to the floor. He leaned back for a moment, taking a steadying breath before he onslaught began. 

“Mike, does the timing of this announcement and your retirement have anything to do with the rumors that have surfaced about you and Ginny Baker?” 

Boom, right out of the starting gates, it was looking good for him to win the bet, but the house always won. “No, and guys honestly if we could just keep it on me maybe for this one big announcement. Not to sound narcissistic but if a guy can’t be asked questions about retiring than what’s the point of me having this press conference to begin with?” 

The reporter who had asked the question was frowning at him, “just give us a comment on the situation and then we’ll move on.” The man persisted, “your retirement is a big deal but if it has anything-”

“It has nothing to do with Baker, if anything I wish she had joined the team sooner so we could have more time to work together. She has brought a fire to this team that it has been missing, she is a true professional and deserves better than vultures like you all asking her whatever player of the week it is you think she’s with,” he said with a bit more venom than he originally intended. “If you need a shorter version: no I am not retiring because of Ginny Baker,” he leaned back in his chair as the flash of cameras began again.

“Mr. Lawson what is your next step? We saw you do some broadcasting after the All-Star game, is there more of that in your future or are you still exploring options?”

Mike nodded, “see now there we go a real question. Rest of you mooks could follow his example. I’m still exploring options, I wouldn’t say no to more broadcasting especially because the men I worked with after the All-Star game were such standup guys, but we’ll see. I’ve got a whole season to think about, and there’s definitely things on the table.”

The questions went on for awhile, many of them were about Ginny – their potential relationship – and after a steady stream of them Mike finally had enough. He thanked everyone for coming and walked off the stage. After a brief argument with his agent he stormed off towards the player parking lot where he found Baker leaning against his car with a smug grin on her face.

“I don’t know what you’re smiling about,” Mike started as he got within earshot of her. “I just had to spend my whole retirement announcement fielding question about what kind of shampoo you use and when you’re moving in,” he teased rolling his eyes at her. “I am looking forward to that back rub you owe me,” he said as he slung his bag into the back of his car. 

“Nuh-uh,” she said with a shake of her head. “I won our bet,” she shoved a piece of paper at Mike who took it with a suspicious look in her direction. There were tally marks under the headers ‘Questions about Mike’ and ‘Questions about Me’. Mike counted them up quickly and there were a half a dozen more in the ‘Mike’ column. 

“Bull shit,” he mumbled looking up at her. “No way, I was there I got a million more questions about you than about me,” he looked at her dumbfounded. 

Ginny snatched the piece of paper back victoriously, “that’s what you think but I sat there by the tv keeping track. I want that home cooked meal, Mike!” She shoved the piece of paper into her back pocket before leaning easily against his car once more. “Something hearty like steak and potatoes, I don’t want you skimping out on me,” she wagged her finger at him.

“I still call bullshit,” Mike mumbled as he stared at her. “But fine, steak and potatoes,” he said holding his hands up. “My place, next off day, dinner is going to be served at 6pm sharp if you’re late than I will double down on the steak for myself,” he walked around to the driver’s side. “Oh and, Baker,” he paused looking across his car at her. “If I find out you cheated you are in soooo much trouble,” he slid into his car to the sound of laughter.

The passenger side door opened and she stuck her face in, “I’ll be there by five and with a bottle of wine in tow, like any good guest should bring to a meal. I did not cheat, just because you’re so hung up on me that you only caught the questions about me doesn’t make me a cheater.” She pulled out of the car for a moment before leaning back down and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “See you tomorrow before the game,” she said softly before leaning back and shutting the door. 

Mike took a little breath, watched her retreating form in his review mirror, then slowly backed out and made his way home.

Damn was he in way the fuck over his head on this one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dinner at mike's!
> 
> (this might be the end, if y'all have suggestions for what you'd like to see next let me know)

Ginny had appeared at his door, wine in hand as promised, promptly at five o’clock. 

Mike’s grumbling starts almost instantly, “I thought you were joking about showing up this early.” He said quickly as he opened the door, letting her into his house with a half smile.

“What? And run the risk that you weren’t joking and miss out on a home cooked meal? Besides,” she paused to shrug out of the bomber she was wearing and tossed it lazily over the back of his couch. “I love watching you cook,” she grinned easily at him, shoving her hand deep into the pockets of her dark jeans. She had gone through far more outfits than she’d admit to before settling on something casual. Whatever they were…she didn’t want to put a label on it. Showing up dressed to the nines, glammed out – well for one that wasn’t her style, but it also just felt wrong.

Like it would force this to be something more than it might be between them. No the comfy tee over dark jeans, hair pulled back into bun and shoved under a ball cap, with the dark bomber jacket that was now resting on the couch to complete the look, felt right. Felt like it wouldn’t make this anything more than dinner between friends, if that’s what Mike wanted – because she sure as hell didn’t know what she wanted. 

Still grumbling he walked back towards the kitchen, Ginny slowly following behind him. It already smelled amazing, and as someone who still was living out of a hotel and mainly off of whatever food she could scrounge up or was able to be delivered to the room it was a nice change of pace.

She’d been over a couple of times, with the rest of the team, for big meals. Mike would cook up a feast for the whole roster. Even if he complained about it everyone knew he loved it. He was a decent cook too, which helped, and usually a handful of younger players would stick behind to do the dishes. So it was really a win-win for Mike. All the appreciation and compliments with only the fun part of the work.

For Ginny though, watching Mike Lawson move around the kitchen was a lot like watching him on the field. There was a focused intensity; every movement seemed a part of some beautiful choreography. After he’d uncorked the wine and pulled out two glasses it was like she wasn’t there anymore. She settled into one of the stools and leaned on his island as she watched him mumbling to himself, seasoning here and chopping there. It was endlessly endearing.

Not that she would ever openly admit to that, and certainly if she ever did cop to it Mike would be the last person she told. She could picture the stupid smug look on his face now. She lifted the glass of wine and took a long pull from it, trying to quiet her mind as she watched his back muscles shift under the snuggly fit grey sweater he was wearing. 

Ginny would happily admit to him that she enjoyed this view, she was sure if she phrased it right she could get his ears to go pink like they do when he’s caught off-guard by something. She as musing over what words would work best when he spun around, a sheepish grin on his face.

“I, uh, know I can’t be making the most fascinating of company right now, if you wanna toss some music on or – or the tv dinner still has a little bit to go before it’s ready,” he spoke a little too quickly, his words tinged less with nervous energy and more (at least it seemed to her) honest embarrassment. 

Ginny smiled back at him over her wine glass, “I don’t know, I think you’re doing just fine entertainment wise. I gotta ask though did you buy that shirt in a boys large or have you just really beefed up while I wasn’t looking,” Ginny grinned as his ears went bright pink at her words. 

Mike shook his head, but even as he did she noticed him flexing a little bit. “It’s a boys husky, thank you very much,” he said, trying to act a lot calmer, cooler, and more collected than he actually felt. “But if you’re content to stare at me like I’m the piece of meat that’s about to be sizzling in this pan, fine. Go ahead, I won’t stop you,” he picked up his glass of wine and took a small sip before setting it back down and getting to back work on the food.

In the end Mike was right, which she hates just a little bit but part of her feels comforted by, and she slipped off of her stool to drift closer to him. Her wine glass in hand, as she leaned easily on the counter close enough now to see the wrinkles on his forehead were even deeper as he concentrated on slicing vegetables. She took a sip of her wine, quietly watching him before he breathed out a quiet laugh and peered over at her.

“What?” His voice was soft, like he was asking her to share some secret with him. “Get tired of the view from back there?”

Ginny shrugged, she hadn’t expected him to turn and look at her. “What? Are you gonna sue me if I admit to liking your face as much as I like your back and ass?” Her voice was steady despite the way her heart started to beat a little bit faster and there was a definite blush beginning to spread across her face. 

Mike set down his knife and grabbed a kitchen towel wiping his hands for a moment before walking over to her. He carefully plucked the wine glass from her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I’d rather kiss you than sue you,” he breathed as he pulled away, much to Ginny’s disappointment. “If that’s okay with you?”

Ginny drew closer to him, her hand reaching for the small of his back, “so you should probably kiss me again then, huh? Because, you know, legal proceedings are never as quick as that kiss you just gave me was.” Mike rolled his eyes but there was a comfortable smile settled firmly on his face and he filled the space between them again.

Ginny slid a hand to gently cup his face as their lips gently brushed against each other once more. His hand was arm and big against her hip, the other sliding around to cup her head lightly. Everything about this was still new, was still nerve-wracking, and yet.... Ginny made no move to pull back and the way Mike’s hand tightened slightly on her hip made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere either.

Eventually they broke the kiss, breath coming out a little faster than they had been before. Mike’s nose brushed against her cheek, his forehead resting gently upon hers. “Ginny,” his voice was quiet, and when she opened her eyes to find his searching her face. “You definitely gotta go watch some tv or something because I am starving and dinner is never gonna get finished at this rate,” his face crinkled up into a smile as she laughed at his words.

“Fine, fine,” she pressed up onto the balls of her feet to press a kiss against his cheek, her face scrunching up as his beard tickled against her face. She pulled back, throwing him a half smile over her shoulder before making her way to the living room and flopping down onto the couch. She turned the tv on quickly to mask the soft burst of giggles she couldn’t fight back.

She was in Mike Lawson’s house, he was cooking her dinner, and they were kissing each other. Somewhere, some distant younger version of herself had died and gone to heaven. Current Ginny, the version that had played with Mike for a year now, still felt some of the childish glee over these facts, but it wasn’t the same Mike Lawson from her youth. This was a very real version, one that pissed her off sometimes, drove her up the fucking wall, but at the end of the day had become one of her closest confidants. A friend. 

She flipped through the channels, willing herself not to look back over at Mike, not to think about how she could still feel the tingle of his lips and beard upon her skin. Finally she settled on ESPN, watching the talking heads of Around the Horn discussing something to do with basketball. Just as the show started to fade out and Pardon the Interruption’s intro rolled she heard Mike’s voice from the kitchen calling her name.

“Baker, I swear to god if you fell asleep out there,” she turned the tv off, standing and stretching. She listened to his grumbling, making him wait for as long as possible before walking into the kitchen where two beautiful plates of food were waiting. Mike looked up, an easy smile spreading across his face. “Ahh, good,” he seemed nervous again.

She settled back into the stool she’d abandoned earlier, and Mike pushed one of the plates towards her before settling across from her. He watched her intently as she cut into the steak, which was perfectly cooked, and added some of the beautiful salad on the side and took a bite. 

It took all of her willpower to suppress the groan that threatened to spill out. Everything tasted amazing. She looked up at him after swallowing the fist bite and shook her head. “When and where did you learn to cook, because that has got to be one of the best steaks I’ve ever tasted,” she didn’t tell him it was definitely the best steak she’s had in recent memory. She sliced off another bit of steak, watching his face.

“I used to have a chef and a dietician,” he admitted with a little shrug, the smirk still settled firmly on his place as he watched her eat. “I got tired of having people in my house, running my life, picking meals for me,” he sliced into his own steak, sliding some of the au gratin potatoes on top. “So I learned how to cook for myself.”

Ginny nodded, reaching for her glass of wine that Mike had mercifully refilled for her when he set up the plates of food. “Just like that?” she asked before trying to gracefully shove as much of the food into her mouth as she could in one bite.

“Just like that,” he said with another shrug. If he noticed the obscene amount of food she just took in, in a single bite he didn’t say anything. He took a bite of his own food before reaching for his glass of wine and shrugging again. “I’m kind of, uh, stubborn,” he spoke slowly, smiling at her. “If I want something, like… I really want it, I can usually find a way to make it work,” his eyes were almost twinkling when she looked over at him.

She rolled her eyes, “you are so fucking cheesy.” He let out a harsh laugh, leaning forward. Ginny found herself leaning to meet him and they kissed softly. “This is really, really good though Mike,” she said against his lips before pulling back. 

“Well I fucking hope so, I mean I lost the bet, and it would suck if it was for nothing,” he winked at her before slicing off some more of his steak.

The rest of the meal passed with some small talk, which lasted longer than the food on their plates did. Ginny snagged the plates and carried them over to the sink, turning on the sink faucet ready to wash the plates when Mike’s voice cut across the kitchen.

“Baker, what on earth are you doing?” he asked, almost incredulously.

“Uhh, the dishes, what does it look like?” Ginny looked over at him, eyebrows quirked in confusion.

“Nuh-uh, I have dishwasher for that, besides what if you like…cut your hand on a knife? Leave it Baker, besides I think I have ice cream if you want dessert,” he was digging in his freezer before pulling out two containers of what looked like Ben & Jerry’s and holding them out to her. “I got Phish Food and New York Super Fudge Chunk, pick your poison,” he shook at her gently, as if trying to entice her.

Ginny gave, very quickly, and walked over to snag the Phish Food from him, “I know I won a bet and all for this, but I was going to do that so I didn’t feel like I owed you one.” She admitted as he reached into a drawer and offered her a spoon. 

Mike popped the lid off of the pint in his hand, setting it on the counter, and began to eat. “You could always give me that back rub if you’re really feeling like you owe me something,” he winked at her.

She mimicked his movements, setting the lid down next to his and dug into the ice cream trying to dig out as many of the chocolate fish as she could. “You are plying me with ice cream,” she said thoughtfully as she pulled the spoon, slowly, out of her mouth. “Let’s go watch some tv, eat some ice cream, and see how I’m feeling,” she grinned at him.

“I’ve got some blu-rays we could pop on if you’re into that sort of thing,” he said, sticking his spoon into his ice cream before offering his hand to her. “Maybe we could watch some Ken Burns so you don’t need to google all of my old-timey references,” he added grinning at her.

Ginny looked skeptically at him, even as she took the offered hand, lacing her fingers with his. “Isn’t that like..a million hours long though?” 

Mike shrugged at her as they walked towards the couch, “I mean…do you have anywhere else you need to be?”

Ginny let go of his hand and flopped down, careful not to spill or drop her ice cream, “no, I guess I don’t.”

Mike, mostly ignoring what she was saying, sat down his ice cream and started to set up the documentary series before walking back over. He sat down next to her, not so close that they were touching, but he wasn’t exactly on the opposite side of the couch other. “So it’s settled then,” he grinned at her. “If you fall asleep, I’ll wake you up.”

“No you won’t,” she said, calling his bluff a little more quickly than she intended too.

“No, I won’t,” he agreed as he pressed play and took another bite of ice cream.


End file.
